


Adulthood is a Dystopia

by magnetgirl



Category: Bunheads
Genre: Adulthood, Adulting, Gen, I wil never be over this series, Post-Canon, Teen Angst, Teenage Drama, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetgirl/pseuds/magnetgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasha writes an essay to get out of a required course in Life Skills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adulthood is a Dystopia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marginalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginalia/gifts).



> I requested Bunheads two years in a row to no avail -- thank you for providing me the opportunity and impetus to write it myself!

 

 

The counselor found Sasha waiting outside his office. “I don’t need a class in Life Skills.” 

 

He unlocked the door and gestured for her to come in and take a seat. “It’s a requirement.”

 

“It would be a waste of time.” Sasha sat on the chair as if it were a throne. 

 

The counselor took a deep breath, he was used to these kids trying to talk their way out of classes. “I know these topics seem like common sense but you’d be surprised —"

 

“I wouldn’t be surprised because I have already studied them.” 

 

“You can’t learn all you need to know in a book,” he started but she interrupted.

 

“And I have applied my accumulated knowledge to real world scenarios as they come up.” 

 

The counselor frowned, not quite sure he understood. 

 

“I mean,” Sasha explained, “that I have been practicing these ‘Life Skills’ in my actual life.”

 

The counselor swallowed a retort and started to go over the curriculum. “We cover budget maintenance—“

 

“I have a spreadsheet I update with income and expenses twice daily. It’s color coded. And this app,” she held her phone up so he could read the screen, “sends me reminders forty eight hours in advance of any bill’s due date.” 

 

“Well, and how to maintain a home—“

 

“I’ve read every book Martha Stewart’s ever written.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that more about entertaining?”

 

“You can’t succeed at entertaining if you don’t properly maintain your home to begin with,” Sasha explained, clearly quoting. 

 

He blinked and took another deep breath. “Do you have a resume?”

 

“No.” The counselor brightened. “I have a curriculum vitae to include in my university applications and a digital portfolio for dance auditions.” The counselor wilted. Sasha paused a moment, considering, then opened her planner and made a quick notation. “I’ll adapt them into a more conventional resume so I have it on hand if something comes up. That’s a good suggestion. Thank you.”

 

“I, uh. You’re. . . welcome. . .” Sasha smiled. “Look. The Life Skills course is required for all students.”

 

“Can’t I place out? Take a test or bake a soufflé or something?”

 

The counselor shook his head, wearily. Bake a soufflé? Where did this girl come from? “No.”

 

Sasha’s hand shook very slightly. “Please.”

 

The counselor sighed. “Write a proposal,” he offered. “Explain why you don’t need the class. Include personal examples. Convince me you know what it means to be an adult.”

 

Sasha’s eyes flashed. She set her jaw and nodded once in agreement. 

 

_I don't need life skills class because I already maintain an apartment. I follow a budget, do my own laundry and grocery shopping, have created menus and hosted gatherings._

 

Sasha looked out over the edge of the loft above the dance floor, her back perfectly perpendicular to the floor with one leg tucked and the other straight, toes pointed. She typed into her laptop with deliberation. 

 

_But more importantly I understand the magnitude and gravity of adulthood._

 

_Being an adult is not a matter of age or even experience. Being adult means taking responsibility for yourself and others._

 

Since her mother was placed on bedrest, Boo had been the main caretaker for her younger brothers. It was exhausting and definitely the best argument for birth control she’d ever encountered. There’re plenty of days Boo dreamt of leaving -- she’d imagined so many scenarios. She’ll get a full scholarship to college and study something really smart like Literature or Government. Or she’ll be discovered in the grocery store (because that’s where she always is) and asked to star in a ballet adaptation of _Lord of the Rings_. Or she’ll join the Peace Corps and travel. Or join the circus and travel. Sometimes she daydreamed about life with Carl and raising their own children. Sometimes, when it’s been a particularly trying day, she daydreamed about running away from everyone and everything and being someone else entirely.

 

But she never would. Not just because it would be way wrong -- and it would be _way wrong_. And not just because she’d worry no one else would step up -- because they would, if they needed to. Boo isn’t the only responsible person in town, though she might be best at it. And it wasn’t just because if she left she would be miserable, though that was also true. 

 

Boo stayed because she was needed and it was a good feeling and she believed she had time to do everything she wanted to if she was smart about planning and never gave up. 

 

_Being an adult is accepting the consequences of your choices._

 

Ginny missed the fairy tale. Maybe it was silly and childish to believe she and Josh were destined to live happily ever after but even so she missed it. She missed being the only one of her friends with a boyfriend. She had never put her boyfriend ahead of any of them the way they all put their boyfriends ahead of her. She missed when all she wanted from life was to be a prima ballerina. 

 

Now she felt lost. She didn’t know what she wanted or who she wanted or when or how or why. She knew she didn’t want to end up like her mother but that’s not much of a goal. Plus she felt bad thinking it. 

 

She missed Melanie most of all. She was still here, of course, and they were okay. Good, even. Normal. But Cozette and Frankie loomed over their relationship and she was afraid to explain why. Ashamed to explain why. It was stupid. Or she was stupid? She wasn’t sure which. Or both, probably both. Anyway as much as she desperately wanted to get between Melanie and Cozette and roller derby she knew Cozette and roller derby made Melanie happy. What Ginny needed was to find what made _her_ happy. 

 

Auditions for the Fall play were this week. 

 

_Being an adult is about acknowledging your limitations and embracing your strengths._

 

On the rink, Melanie was a superhero. Her height wasn’t a problem, her aggression was an asset. She didn’t have to walk on any eggshells, she didn’t have to be polite. She could roll over whatever was bothering her and crush it into dust. It’s not just the most fun she’s ever had. It’s not just the best time she’s ever had. On the rink she could be herself. 

 

The trick was gonna be figuring how to feel that way _outside_ the rink. Not every problem can be attacked head on, shoved to the side, or rolled over. College applications loomed. Expectations were high and her grades were not. It wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t surrounded by overachievers. Is there a way to major in roller derby?

 

According to the internet: History or Psychology.

 

_Being an adult means realizing you don't always get what you want but what you get instead has value._

 

“What’s that?” Michelle peered over Sasha’s shoulder to blink at the screen. 

 

Sasha sat back and closed the laptop. “I’m writing an essay to get out of the Life Skills course at school.”

 

“The what now?”

 

“Life Skills.” Sasha stood and started to pack up her things. “It’s like how to run a house, keep a budget, save money, build a resume, interview well. . . whatever.”

 

Michelle’s eyes grew wider with every example. “That’s a class?”

 

“It’s required.” 

 

“Wow. I wish I could have taken it in high school.” Let’s be real, she wished she could take it now.

 

Sasha turned, arms crossed, armor up. “Why?”

 

Michelle cocked her head. “Let’s just say my parents and my education did not prepare me for my life.”

 

Sasha grew pensive. “What would you do differently?”

 

“Hm? If I had the class?” Sasha shrugged. “Well, to be completely honest, I probably wouldn’t have paid any more attention to that class than I did to the rest of them.”

 

“Did you always want to be a dancer?”

 

“Yeah.” Michelle smiled. “Do you want to be a dancer?” They both knew she was the only one in class who had a chance to go further. 

 

“I don’t know.” Sasha glanced away, suddenly, oddly, shy. “It’s not a very secure profession.”

 

Michelle made a noise that might have been a laugh, but if it were late at night and she was alone would have become a sob. “No, it is not.”

 

Sasha turned back to meet her eyes. “What should I do?”

 

Michelle took a deep breath. Sasha’s eyes were so wide and entreating, Michelle got the impression she could say anything and the girl would listen, would do it, without question. She put a hand on Sasha’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze of encouragement. 

 

“You should trust yourself. Trust that you’ll make the best decisions you can and whatever happens, you’ll be okay.”

 

Sasha was silent a long moment. “Okay,” she echoed finally. 

 

“Okay.” Michelle drew her into a tight hug. 

 

_Life skills like responsibility and resilience, self-awareness and self-acceptance, discipline and deliberation, can't be taught in a classroom._

 

The counselor found Sasha waiting for him outside his office. “Have that proposal for me?”

 

“Yes.” She handed over a bright blue folder containing her paper, double spaced, 10 point font, signed with a flourish below the last paragraph. “But I’ve decided to take the class.”

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Adulthood is a Dystopia (podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8976052) by [Caveat_Lector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caveat_Lector/pseuds/Caveat_Lector)




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